


disassemble

by LittleMissRainbow



Series: can't color inside the lines [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Gen, This is just self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissRainbow/pseuds/LittleMissRainbow
Summary: What if the Midorima we know loses one key part of himself? These are the three realities he might have lived.or Midorima Shintarou in Three Alternate Realities





	1. Three

**Author's Note:**

> *awkward cough* Well, hello there.
> 
> So it's been a few years since I posted anything here. Honestly, these past years have been tough and the only thing that made me feel better was binge-reading fanfics--both of KuroBas and others. I've been down more than I've felt positive about anything so even though I wanted to write or update my stories, I couldn't get myself to do it. This year, however, I promised myself that I would get back to writing--starting by posting the fics gathering dust in my folders. Here's to hoping I'll be able to fulfill that.
> 
> Any and all mistakes or typos are all my fault and will probably only be fully corrected once I've finished the story. Quotes at the end of each chapter are lifted from the ace shooter himself.

Had he been a lesser man, Takao Kazunari would have thanked every deity he knew and kissed the sweat-stained gym floors when Coach Nakatani finally dismissed them for the day. 

The regulars on Shuutoku’s basketball team had been working themselves to the bone for the upcoming Inter-High. Even the seniors, he noted, were having a hard time catching their breath after the intense workout. Their school’s motto, “Persistent and Tireless”, proved to be more than just pretty words splashed mindlessly on a banner. Takao now had to wonder whether or not their coach had been the one to suggest it, seeing as he obviously took it to heart.

The measured sound of the ball hitting the wooden floors made him rethink that statement. There was one more guy who perfectly embodied the slogan.

“You staying for extra practice, Shin-chan?” Even he could hear the incredulity in his voice.

The man in question did not spare him a glance nor a reply. However, the whispered swish of the net was more than enough for him.

“Make sure to close up properly, Takao,” Ootsubo reminded him as his kouhai continued to sit on the floor. The captain shifted his gaze to their ace for a moment, diligently sinking threes consecutively without losing his form, before sighing and leaving the two first-years to their own devices.

For the whole time that Takao’s known him, Midorima Shintarou was nothing short of a hard worker. The man excelled at practically everything—be it studies or basketball, he’s undoubtedly one of the best. The guy could even play the piano, or so Takao heard from the nattering females in his class. He was a prodigy, a genius that common people like him were born to both admire and aspire to be.

Others would say that Midorima was extremely blessed, that his talents were born in him. “He’s lucky,” they’d grumble. “It’s not like we could compete with that kind of talent.” Whether that may be the case or not, however, that did not stop the Miracle from pursuing excellence. He was hard on others, and even more on himself. He was not content with just ‘good’ or ‘great’. He would not settle for anything less than perfection.

He refused to rely on anything or anyone but himself. It was firm in his belief that victory is not truly achieved when it did not bear fruit from one’s sole effort—a kind of mentality that must have been born during his time at Teiko Middle. “Ever Victorious” was a hard load to carry, but it was one he was determined to see through ‘til the end by himself and himself alone. In fact, if Takao were to offer his assistance to the Miracle right now to lessen his load even for just a bit, he would probably reject it. 

It’s not like it would make a difference, Takao thought, the tiniest hint of vitriol seeping through. Even without teamwork or coordination, he would still succeed.

Some people would say that it was his pride and his arrogance that caused him to be this way, but for him, it was just a way of life. “I do everything in my power in order to win,  _in fact_ ” he told Takao when he first spotted him doing extra practice. He’d forgotten his notebook in the clubroom and happened to pass by the gym, lights still on and sounds of life still abundant. “That’s all there is to it.”

Takao once jokingly suggested that Midorima use lucky charms for more good luck. What’s the harm in indulging on fate, after all? “Maybe that Oha-Asa stuff could actually boost our chances of winning,” he teased.

Midorima’s voice was sharp when he answered, his glasses glinting as he pushed it up the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be ridiculous, Takao. The fact that you’re asking me this means that you have not practiced enough,  _in fact_.” 

A bit irked, he challenged, “So if someone gave you a lucky item right now, you wouldn’t take it, even if they said that it would guarantee your win?”

“To resort to believing in mere superstitions is like admitting that I haven’t done all that I could.” His tone was firm and left no room for argument. “I am strong. No amount of luck in the world could diminish or upsurge that.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

_“Only you can help yourself.”_


	2. Two

Midorima Shintaro was a serious man.

“Hey, did you hear?”

He did not subscribe to gossip, nor did he have time to listen to them.

“Yeah! Teiko crushed their opponents again!”

He doesn’t like violence nor any of its varieties, but refused to bow down in the face of competition.

“They’re invincible! No one can defeat them!”

He disliked arrogance and vanity as much as the next person, as well as any kind of baseless and misplaced admiration.

“They really are like miracles!”

Furthermore, he  _hated_  his revered teammates.

They were vile, over-confident and too talented for their own good. They played around their opponents like a predator playing with its food. They punished anyone who tried to challenge their authority and took them down. They would use anyone for their own amusement, only to toss them out when they got bored. They would take any hope and any joy out of their opponents, sucking them out like a leech until there was nothing left but fear and despair.

The so-called ‘Generation of Miracles’ were toxic to everything and everyone around them, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

* * *

Midorima loved playing basketball—though he would never say that out loud, of course. The feeling of getting the ball through the hoop, of executing a move that no one could counter, of achieving victory after everything he has been through—it was like all those hours of practice and aching muscles were turned into nothing.

Even after everything they’ve lost, every bit of frustration and hopelessness, the feeling of rising to the top was a something he’d never replace for anything in this world and spend his entire lifetime looking for. It was his quest to be the best—to reach the highest of heights—that led him to Teiko Middle School.

He fell one step short, however.

“You’re good at threes,” Saitoh, an upperclassman from the second-string, voiced to him one day. “But you haven’t mastered it yet. If you practice even more, I’m sure you’ll have a fighting chance to get into the first-string.”

And so he practiced—in the court near their house, in the sports center down town and, after managing to secure a key, in one of the gyms at Teiko. From time to time, Saitoh dropped by, giving him advices and helping him practice. Day after day and into the night until his limbs felt like they were no longer part of his body, he practiced—to the point where he could barely focus on his studies, his mind fully committed on improving his prided threes.

It was during one of his extended practices that he met Akashi Seijuurou. He was just appointed captain after Nijimura stepped down. Akashi was smart, charismatic, talented and well-mannered—he was every teacher’s pet, every girl’s fantasy, and every boy’s role model. He would say it was because of his upbringing, but even Midorima couldn’t deny his natural-born skills—something he couldn’t help but be envious about.

“Extra practice, Midorima?” he asked like they were close friends instead of mere schoolmates. Midorima found this quite infuriating.

“Akashi,” he greeted instead, idly reaching for his lucky item, a four-leaf clover key chain, in his pocket.

“So you are the one who’s been utilizing this gym so late at night,” he mused, walking further into the gym. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into Kuroko at all.”

“Who?”

“He just got into the first-string,” he informed him, like it should mean something to him. “He’s currently our team’s sixth man.”

Midorima felt like he was trying to slow-walk him into something he didn’t have the luxury for so he asked, “How may I help you?”

“I came here in the hopes of finding another player that could benefit the team. Perhaps, like Kuroko, I’d be able to find someone…  _worthwhile_.” He turned to look at Midorima fully then. “It seems I assumed too much.”

Midorima felt his irritation flare at the thinly-veiled insult. “What’s that supposed to mean- _nodayo_?”  

Akashi’s eyes were supposed to look warm and calm, he thought. However at that moment, Midorima felt like he was looking into the eyes of someone else. Something entirely  _other._ “Go home. You’ll never be able to reach our level.”

“Well, it’s not like it can be helped, can it?” one of his fellow first years told him in practice the next day, stuck in the second-string like he was. He’d been so incensed by the comment that he began squeezing the life out of the  _Tanuki_  stuffed toy in his clutches and his teammates couldn’t help but notice. “They’re the strongest out there.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t get stronger than them- _nanodayo._ ” His spirit would not be stopped by such a hurdle as this. In his very essence, the words “give up” did not exist.

“Midorima’s right, freshmen,” Saitohsaid, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should aim higher than just the second-string. We  _all_  should aim for the first-string.”

The first years stood at attention and replied with a, “Y-Yes, Sir!” with Midorima giving Saitoha grateful nod.

But pretty words could do nothing against reality.

In the end, even after tirelessly enduring harsh trainings and late-night practices, his  _senpai_ graduated without ever stepping foot on the first-stringers’ court.

In a rather desperate attempt to erase the bleak expression on his  _senpai’s_ face, Midorima said, “Perhaps, with a little more practice, you—”

“It’s no use, Midorima,” came Saitoh’stired reply. “They’re too strong to be defeated.”

The same person who helped spark a fire in him was the same person to kill the flame in him. He would later laugh at the bitter irony, but nothing was funny about it now.

And so here he was, forced to cheer on his team from the stands. They didn’t, though—at least those from Teiko’s famed basketball team didn’t. They no longer did. Not when they knew who those people on the court really were.

With one last shot, the game ended with Teiko’s victory: 125-54. Various articles would later call it the unforgettable match that cemented the Generation of Miracles’ reign over the basketball circuit, but that wouldn’t be how Midorima would remember it.

* * *

Midorima Shintaro was a serious man.

He did not subscribe to gossip, nor did he have time to listen to them. He doesn’t like violence nor any of its varieties, but he’d learned to close his eyes and bear with it.

Because Midorima Shintaro had come to realize that he was just an ordinary man. He was no genius. In the face of the strong, there was nothing else he could do.

_**.** _

_**.** _

_**.** _

_“Only the strong stays on the court. That’s all there is to it.”_

**Author's Note:**

> PS: Thank you for all the people who've read my stories (as few of them as there are) and enjoyed them. I'm currently planning on continuing the Inflame series and PDA. Hopefully I'll be able to finish those before the year ends--along with a couple other fics I've planned on doing for so long. ^^


End file.
